What went on in Nuremburg seems to be really topical these days. Doesn’t it?

— I started out this morning to write about a weird dream I had – & discovered the computer I fixed yesterday had gone into blue screen mode. I was able to convince it to shut down and then, remarkably, I was able to restart it – the problem seems to be that while it is protected by Avast and Malwarebytes it thinks it is totally unprotected. and wants to scream that at me every couple minutes.

— Then I discovered that my dream journal blog has developed a fatal problem that won’t let it load, and I can’t sign into it. And several blogs are complaining that they need to be updated. Including this one. & “Blogzilla 2.0” is full of nonsense from fatcow dot com which may be in collusion with one nasty, fraudulent extortionist or another and has shut down access to blogs mirrored on their servers because I refused to pay their ever increasing nonsensical ‘protection racket’ prices. — groan —

— sigh, & now the cat is complaining that I’m late with his breakfast.

— I’m pretty sure I was walking around the Milford, Connecticut, of my youth with my cousin, Glenn. He had grown taller than me. I was six feet three and he was probably six feet four and a half. It felt like we were back in our late teens. Too young to drive – too young for our parents to start nagging us to go out and get a job — old enough to feel the sting of knowing our parents were wrong – they’d been lied to and they’d believed the lies — but we weren’t old enough yet to understand that we knew that we were a little more right than they were – that we were ‘plugged in’ to a Truth that they couldn’t see or understand. The Beatles and the Stones had landed and taken their place in the collective consciousness (and unconsciousness – where applicable) so the social revolution was beginning and we were feeling something like empowerment – like something new and exciting and spiritually truthful was trying to transform the world into something we could believe in, not some nightmare manipulated by greedy older men with evil dark agendae – who believed in killing off the best and brightest of every generation so they and theirs could maintain power.

— We walked around, connected with friends and went to some kind of party reminiscent of the first time we played together in a band, we knew three songs and everybody thought we were fantastic, wanted to hear those three songs over and over again. I had a slightly warped and hard to play electric bass guitar and guys and girls caught up in the rock and roll revolution were shocked and impressed by the way I could play in time and with feeling they’d never felt from the lousy AM radios we all had in those days.

— Then we ended up ‘crashing’ sleeping in a room full of couch cushions arranged on a floor. In the dream I woke up worrying that somebody would look at me and know that, dressed or not, with the blanket not quite covering me, I was obviously sexually aroused – I’d been dreaming of the young women who’d been gasping and looking at us like we were potential rock and roll gods while we’d been playing and one of them wanted to sleep with me, but I woke up in a room littered with sleeping guys —

— I guess I lived through that without being discovered or having to explain that I’d been dreaming of starry eyed young women letting me know they’d let me kiss them.

— And as we walked outside somebody pointed across the river and said “That’s not right! There’s only supposed to be three peaks in those mountains. Look, there’s five!”

— In the reality I grew up in, there were no mountain peaks across the river from Milford, in what would have been Stratford. But, Yeah, there they were. I wanted to reach for my cell phone and take a photo of those five mountain peaks. But I quickly forgot that, the mountains began moving- sliding out of sight to the right- (heading north?) and being replaced by more and more mountains on the other side of the river. I gasped and said, “We’re going to have an earthquake-” and heard a commotion and people were running all around us. And I heard somebody else – who had probably come this conclusion independently – shout, “We’re gonna have an earthquake!”

— There was a rumble, not a really big one but a line of mountain cliffs came rolling in like they were on a railroad train and took up residence next door. I was trying to remember the name of those neighbours, realized I was in somebody’s house, and wondered how I would get back across the river to where my baby sister, Nancy, probably needed emotional support and most likely needed to know that I was okay and I wanted to know that she was okay-

— That’s where I woke up.

= = = = =

— It is now 11:27 am and it’s only taken me four and a half hours to write down the details of a dream that should only have taken me fifteen minutes to describe.